Admit You Like It
by SybLaTortue
Summary: Two years on Kamabakka really messed with Sanji's head. But Zoro has no such excuse.


_**This was written a while ago (so it doesn't take the the post-timeskip stuff into consideration) to accompany those pics I made:**** http:/ /community. livejournal. com /zosan/304726. html**_

* * *

The inn room is empty when Sanji comes back to it in the middle of the afternoon. It's expected, what with everyone free to do whatever they want while waiting for the log pose to set. Somehow he ends up sharing his room with Zoro for the duration and okay, it's not actually that bad because it means a bed and some privacy and they can't ever have that on the ship.

But now Zoro isn't here, probably already drinking in a tavern somewhere, or lost, and they'll be lucky if he shows up at all for dinner.

Sanji drops a shopping bag on one of the beds, grateful that no one is around to ask questions and yet cursing the fact that no one present means there is no obstacle for what he plans to do.

Digging into the bag, he pulls out a cute, silky pink dress – more a nightgown really – and what the hell was he thinking, buying something like this? The vendor had been easily convinced that it was a gift for his girlfriend, but Sanji knew that was a lie. That dress is absolutely unsuitable for Robin-chan's elegant style, and the size is too big for his delicate Nami-san, and anyway he would never dare buy something so risqué for them. He is a gentleman after all. Though he does occasionally fantasize about them wearing all sorts of pretty lingerie... Mellorine~

Wiping a drop of blood from his nose, Sanji comes back to the present and to the dress that he's bought for no one else than himself. He will have to get rid of it before they leave this island, he thinks, because it's impossible to hide anything on the Sunny.

So while he's alone in this room, he'll satisfy this crazy urge that's been nagging at him since he left Kamabakka to wear something pretty and pink. His hands start to undo the buttons of his shirt as he stares at the dress. It's a delicate piece, much prettier than the shitty frilly thing they forced upon him, and he thinks this one will fit his frame better. The shade of pink will go well with the color of his skin, too.

The first times these kind of thoughts had entered his mind, completely uninvited and shortly after being reunited with the crew, he had tried drinking them away. But they had come back, again and again, until they didn't even sound that disturbing to him anymore and he now believes that the only way to drive them away will be to give in, once.

With his shirt removed and his pants undone, he takes the dress and turns to the full-length mirror in the corner of the room. He holds it against his chest, hesitating to actually put it on because despite being tempted to, there's still a part of his brain – a big part, his pride as a man – yelling at him not to do it. Even if no one else knows, _he_'ll know and there will be no erasing that memory from his mind.

He feels his heart rate accelerate in anticipation and finds himself blushing. Turning to one side and then the other, he realises that he kind of likes the look of the dress swishing over his still clothed thighs and the soft supple fabric feels nice and cool against his skin.

Taking a deep breath and then letting it out in a sigh, Sanji finally relaxes the tension in his shoulders. He's going to fucking do it now.

And just as he makes his decision, the door to the room opens behind him.

*.*.*

Zoro was not lost. He was just looking for a quiet place to nap, possibly in the shade of a tree, far from the activity of the city. That he ends up in front of the inn they're staying at means his subconscious is telling him that a bed is just as suitable a place for napping. Besides, the room should be empty at this time of day.

Seeing the bare back of the cook as he opens the door to their room is unexpected and makes him stop at the threshold. The blond jumps in surprise and half-turns toward him, his cheeks flushed and what's that he's holding against him? It couldn't be a dress, could it? "What-"

"IT'S NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE!" Sanji blurts out, facing Zoro and grasping crumpled pink fabric tightly in his fists. The cook immediately looks like he regrets his choice of words; clearly those were yelled in reflex. So what did it look like?

Now that Zoro has had more than two seconds to look, he can see that it really is a dress in Sanji's hands. A pink dress. With lace. And he feels the need to state the obvious, or maybe to ask if he's hallucinating but Sanji cuts him off before he can get a word out.

"C-close the door. Please." The unchecked panic in the blue eye makes Zoro step into the room and shut the door behind him. They just stare at each other for a long moment, Zoro watching with fascination as Sanji blushes more and more. Slowly it sinks in for the swordsman what he has walked in on. Sanji being half-naked, the dress, the embarrassment, the vehement denial and the pink shopping bag that he's just noticed. His lips twitch upward and Sanji grows even redder.

The chuckle turns into a full out laugh. Sanji wearing a dress! The ero-cook buying a dress for himself! A pink dress! Soon his sides are hurting and he can hear the cook repeatedly yelling at him to shut up but Zoro just can't bring himself to care.

After a while the laughter dies down and Zoro wipes tears of mirth from his eyes. He's a little astonished that he hasn't been kicked; he would have made the perfect target, unable to defend himself. It probably wouldn't have stopped him from mocking the cook though.

"Now that you've had your laugh, will you forget about all this, shithead?" The cook is trying to look angry, and he probably is, but his utterly mortified expression is winning.

Zoro can't quite believe he's hearing this. "No way, this is priceless. The world should know that Blackleg Sanji, the ero-cook, wears girly clothes," he answers with a smirk.

"I DIDN'T WEAR IT!" Sanji denies heatedly.

"Well that's a shame. Put it on then." Zoro says, without thinking.

"W-what?"

What, indeed. The swordsman feels a spike of embarrassment at what he's just suggested but he's quick to justify himself. "I'll have real blackmail then."

"The fuck? Is the marimo-head more stupid then I thought? Why the hell would I give you more blackmail material! Your shitty logic fails!"

"Because I'm proposing you a deal: put it on for me and I may not use it as blackmail later. If you don't, the others will know tonight for sure, and that includes your 'precious ladies'." A plan worthy of the shitty-cook himself and Zoro is feeling pretty awesome to have come up with it so fast. The shit-eating grin he's no doubt sporting is probably not making him very trustworthy in the cook's eyes, but really, what other chance will Sanji get to keep the shreds of his manliness?

The blond appeared to ponder his choices for a moment, looking at the dress in his hands with a frown. "Fucking asshole," he mutters darkly, avoiding eye contact and then reluctantly unfurling the dress and passing his arms through it. "I'll fucking make you pay for this."

Zoro takes a few steps forward, invading the cook's personal space, not wanting to miss any second of Sanji's ultimate humiliation.

The dress is pulled over the blond head and tugged down to hide the pale skin of a lean torso. Sanji is looking to the side, his hair hiding most of his face but Zoro can still see the bright red flush of embarrassment.

*.*.*

Sanji feels hot and uncomfortable all over; humiliated and ashamed that he's been caught in the one moment that he gave in to the unwanted desires. He should have known it would happen too, what with the universe being against him.

And yet he's curious to know how the dress looks on him. He takes a peek in the mirror from the corner of his eye and he can see his back. The dress is the right size and it falls nicely but the light fabric is rumpled over his pants and he thinks his ass would look nice if he could remove them. It's unlikely that he'll get the chance now.

In the reflection, he sees Zoro leering at him and it's really unnerving. "What's with that look, marimo?"

"What look? I'm just committing the sight to memory."

Sanji frowns dubiously. Zoro didn't sound as smug as he had a moment ago and he's definitely ogling him now, raking his eyes up and down Sanji's body. It's still an incredibly embarrassing experience for the cook but a part of his brain realizes he can turn this to his advantage. "You actually like it, don't you?" His eyes leave the mirror to look directly at Zoro.

The swordsman is obviously taken aback by the statement but tries to cover it, shaking his head. "You wish! You look stupid in a dress!"

The blond wants to say that Zoro looks stupider with that blush appearing on his cheeks but instead he just grins, gaining back some of his dearly missed confidence and he even dares to relax his pose, cocking his hip to the side. "You like it~" he insists, "That's why you proposed this deal. Not to further humiliate me; you wanted to see me in a dress."

He takes a step closer to Zoro but the latter puts his hands up in front of him, as if it's going stop Sanji. "Stop saying bullshit, I can still decide to tell the others!"

Ignoring the threat, Sanji closes the gap between them. "You won't if I have blackmail against you too; you also like girly clothes..." he trails off, still feeling like he's about to explode from embarrassment – his heart is beating so fast. Zoro is blushing and shaking his head in denial; his mouth is open but there are no words. Yes, he can do this.

He takes the marimo's right hand and slowly drags it up his thigh to his waist, pulling the dress up with it. "Is it the easy access underneath?" he purrs, remembering how Zoro often complains about him wearing a belt.

He feels the hand on his waist tighten its grip and he releases it, wrapping his arm around the tense shoulders. He uses his free hand to grab Zoro's left one and places it over his hip, the action pulling them even closer. Shit, he was starting to feel aroused with all this groping. At least he can be certain he isn't alone in this situation. "You wouldn't want the others to know that strong and manly Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro is turned on by a cute dress, right?"

"I-I'm not turned on."

Yeah, right. Admirable determination, Sanji thinks, but he wants the truth. He pushes the idiot back until they hit a wall and he presses his body into Zoro's, feeling an unmistakable hardness contradicting his previous words. "You fucking are. Admit you like it, that you think pink looks damn good on me."

Zoro presses his lips together stubbornly, refusing to answer and oh, he looks good in pink too; that blush is just so hot – Zoro really doesn't blush often enough – and fuck if he isn't also turned on. Slowly, Sanji slips a hand under his dress and frees his erection from the confines of his boxers. A soft moan of relief escapes his lips and it catches Zoro's attention causing him to look down to where Sanji's hand has disappeared and the tent in the dress and he can't look away.

Sanji smirks. Victory feels so good, and it was about to feel even better. He strokes himself a few times, just for show, and his only spectator is completely engrossed in the movements under the pink cloth and that's just another turn on. The fabric of the dress is creating the softest friction on his cock and it feels oh so nice; he doesn't think he can get any harder than this.

Swallowing, the swordsman finally succeeds in tearing his eyes away from Sanji's erection only to crush his lips against the cook's. Sanji eagerly returns the kiss, their tongues engaging in a familiar battle. He can feel Zoro's hands surging to life and groping him unashamedly over his dress.

He breaks the kiss after a moment with some difficulty, panting, and having to actually use force to hold Zoro away from his mouth and wow is the marimo desperate? "Calm down Zoro-kun~" he chuckles, amused to feel eager hips twitching against his and just as bemused to notice that, as much as Zoro's hands are all over him, they're not trying to sneak in under the dress.

Dark gold eyes rise to make contact with his and Sanji is taken aback at how they are burning with desire. Shit.

Using both of his hands, Sanji pushes up the stupid haramaki enough to get to the button of Zoro's pants and undoes them quickly, slipping his hand inside, his fingers meeting Zoro's hard length. The swordsman growls appreciatively in his ear, running his hands along his back and roughly pulling him against the scarred chest. Of course what the brute doesn't realise is that this angle sucks for doing anything interesting with his hands.

None too gently, Sanji tugs him down and they slide to the floor. The cook straddles Zoro's thighs and leans forward, one hand going for Zoro's cock again and he strokes it slowly. The marimo has a strange glint in his eyes and Sanji notices that he's staring, not at the hand on his cock, but at the tent Sanji's own erection is forming under the dress. He looks down and sees a wet spot developing at the top. It twitches once under their combined gazes.

Grinning smugly, Sanji moves his hips forward until his clothed erection bumps into Zoro's naked cock and he holds them firmly together. He can feel Zoro's heat seeping through the thin pink fabric and he stifles a moan.

Zoro is entranced by the whole thing – which Sanji thinks is an interesting look on him and he'll have to find other ways to produce this look again – but for now he's mute and drooling and Sanji doesn't want him mute. "Admit it, Zoro," he starts, teasingly, "No point in denying it now."

The swordsman glances up at Sanji's eyes for a moment then goes back to staring at their cocks and Sanji's hand that is, frustratingly, not moving. "Hot," he finally mumbles.

Sanji raises an eyebrow and he waits for more but it seems like it's the only word that the inarticulate marimo will manage to get out.

"You look hot in pink. Really fucking hot. And..." Zoro trails off, his blush darkening.

Sanji rubs his thumb over the head of Zoro's cock, making him groan. "And?"

"And no one else needs to know of any of this," he finishes quickly, looking at the blond with a mixture of impatience, expectancy and extreme embarrassment.

Sanji smiles widely. Complete victory. "Good marimo~ Continue like that and I might keep it afterward." He's probably blushing as much as Zoro now. Did he really just suggest that? But it's made the idiot swordsman smile too and now they're both grinning stupidly at each other. They must look fucking ridiculous but he's beyond caring as he starts moving his hand over silky material and hard flesh.

*OMAKE*

Zoro hazily comes back to consciousness to find that he's on a bed, his head resting on a lumpy pillow and there's a wet spot on it and it's probably his drool. He pushes the pillow out of the way and absently reaches out with his arm only to find that the space next to him is empty. Damn.

Opening his eyes, he searches the room and spots the cook in front of the mirror wearing nothing but the dress. The situation feels not unlike what he had walked in on earlier. Had that really been today? What time was it now anyway? Whatever.

The situation has a sense of familiarity, only now the dress is already on and there are no pants to hide Sanji's long legs… which look especially long disappearing under the short dress like that. Zoro moves to a more comfortable position and proceeds to take in the sight without interruption. The cook is too interested in his reflection to notice he's awake – narcissistic bastard – and he can't see Zoro in the mirror from this angle.

The swordsman certainly hadn't expected to find anything hot in seeing the love-cook wearing a dress; it had taken him completely by surprise. The color suits the blond well, but that's something Zoro has noticed before as Sanji owns several pink shirts. Though, if it hadn't been for today's incident, he would never have commented on it.

The cut of the dress, on the other hand, is another matter entirely. The easy access IS nice (he had been able to test it thoroughly and that had been fun) but that's only part of it. The low neck – trimmed with lace – and the thin straps show off his collarbone and shoulders along with part of his chest and there's nothing feminine about those parts of Sanji's anatomy.

That the dress is so soft and delicate creates a strong contrast and in a way it accentuates his manliness and that's hotter than anything Zoro could ever have imagined. At the same time, it also enhances his other traits; how lean he is and how his skin is soft and pale. Not to mention that it brings out a certain vulnerability in the cook that is usually so hard to get a glimpse of and it's triggering Zoro's protective instincts. That's one detail he will never let Sanji know though, as it will only lead to a premature death.

"How long have you been awake, pervy marimo?" Sanji asks, not bothering to face Zoro. Seems the cook has finally felt Zoro observing him.

"Long enough..." _to get hard again_, he finishes in his mind.

The cook turns toward him, a shadow of his earlier embarrassment manifesting itself in a light blush across his cheeks. Zoro motions him to come closer with a lazy grin and Sanji does, a little wary. "What is it?"

As soon as the blond is in range, the swordsman grabs him around the waist and throws him playfully on the bed, earning a surprised yelp. Zoro leans over Sanji predatorily and slowly traces a finger along the line of lace. "I still like it~"


End file.
